


Snowballs, Hot Chocolate and Lucky Misfortunes

by LeandraLocke, saturnmeetsmercury (jarofhearts)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 04:37:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8953897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeandraLocke/pseuds/LeandraLocke, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarofhearts/pseuds/saturnmeetsmercury
Summary: Sometimes, all it takes is a lucky set of circumstances and a hot drink to make a good Christmas amazing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> At long last, a complete collaboration by saturnmeetsmercury and me, a little Christmas fic this time.   
> We hope you'll enjoy it and wish you all happy holidays and a great start into the new year!

Later, Bucky would recall with perfect clarity how it happened. Almost like a replay in slow motion and high definition.

He had been in a snowball fight with Natasha in front of their apartment building, acting silly like they only ever seemed to manage around each other, their winter shoes kicking up sprays of snow. And her throws were  _ vicious _ , fast and precise, and Bucky was so distracted by his own laughter that it took him everything he had to evade the two snowballs coming in rapid succession. The way he jumped must have looked hilarious, bending his upper body back and skipping to his other foot on instinct to make sure the snow hit neither his shoulder nor his foot.

It was no goddamn surprise that his own throw was miles off because of that.

Well, alright, not  _ miles _ . The point was that it didn’t hit her, it hit someone else.

“Oh  _ shit _ !” Bucky exclaimed in a half whisper, eyes wide as he steadied himself in the snow, wide open for Natasha’s throws. But she, too, had turned her head to see what was up, her lips forming an ‘o’, mirth dancing on her face nevertheless.

It was the  _ guy _ , the one Bucky saw sometimes outside the window, who, according to Natasha, lived across the street: tall and blond and wrapped up in a dark blue coat that now had a large white spot on it where the snow had exploded on the front of his shoulder. He wore a slightly baffled expression, his gaze finding Bucky who stared back for a moment before finally unfreezing. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?” he wanted to know while coming closer, trying to read in the man’s face whether he was going to get angry at him.

But the man seemed, at most, slightly startled, probably having seen the snowball coming as much as Bucky him. He shook his head as he brushed the snow off his coat. Then, as his gaze met Bucky’s, a small smile appeared on his lips. “I’m fine. Don’t worry. Good thing you didn’t hit my face.”

“God, I’m sorry,” Bucky said again, but this time he was already more relaxed. With the relief to see the other man smile, his mortification turned to embarrassment, and he had to keep himself from dusting the rest of the snow off the dark coat. “Believe me, I’m really really glad about that too.”

The guy made a small waving motion with his hand, shrugging. “It’s just snow. Wouldn’t have killed me either. Anyway, I…” He pointed in direction of the sidewalk, prompting Bucky to step aside. “You two have fun.”

“Thanks,” Tasha said and gave the guy a little wave. Bucky echoed her automatically, looking after the guy when he walked past him, with a strange of relief and… disappointment? He pressed his lips together, then made himself shrug it off and turned back to Natasha.

She had her arms crossed in front of her, lips curled up in that slightly wry, a little too knowing smirk, and Bucky narrowed his eyes at her.

Her brows just rose slowly, and her shoulders moved in a hint of a shrug. “He’s cute,” she said, as if that had been an answer to a question.

Bucky rolled his eyes, knowing that it was no use trying to divert from the topic. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the guy was far enough away to not be able to hear what he said. “He’s also hot as hell.”

A small smirk formed on one side of her lips. “Good that you’re not denying it. I’m also pretty sure he’s single. Oh…” She looked in the guy’s direction again, brow furrowed and mouth open.

Bucky’s eyebrows immediately went up. He didn’t want to appear too curious, but when nothing happened for a beat, he looked back over his shoulder. When he didn’t see anything but the empty street, he couldn’t help angling for a reply.

“Oh what?”

He had barely turned back to face her, when a handful of snow he couldn’t have seen coming hit him square in the face. Natasha was laughing, but it sounded surprised, even a bit apologetic. Then again her amusement was clearly on the forefront.

Bucky spluttered, blinking rapidly and bringing his hands up to wipe the snow away from his face.

“You  _ cheater _ !”

Not even waiting until he could actually see again, still half blind with snow in his eyes, he bent down and grabbed more snow to haul it after her, even if Natasha had already taken off, and Bucky simply followed her laughter on his quest for revenge.

 

***

 

The next time he saw him, it was by chance: a glance out of the window in their living room on his way to the kitchen, and Bucky did a double take and stopped. Curiously, he knelt on the couch under the window and peered outside. And sure enough, he hadn’t imagined that the blond head and the wide shoulders seemed familiar.

He was outside shovelling snow off the pavement, not in his dark blue, short coat but in a simple, slightly worn looking winter jacket. It still looked good on him though, and Bucky crossed his arms on the window sill, put his chin down on them, and watched unabashedly.

“Found something better than watching TV?” Bucky turned to see Natasha come over too him, a cup of something steaming warm in hands as she let herself sink down onto the couch, looking outside as well. 

“You bet,” Bucky replied and rested his chin on his arms again, shifting sideways so that he could push his toes under her warm thigh.

“Jesus, Barnes, will you ever learn to put on some warmer socks in winter?” she commented, a rhetorical question, and accordingly, Bucky only replied with a “Nope,” popping the ‘p’ while still watching the guy outside.

Natasha took a sip of what seemed to be hot cocoa from the scent of it, watching him closely. When Bucky made no attempt to pay her any attention, she shifted slightly again. “I think he does that to pay parts of his rent,” she started, nodding in the guy’s direction. “He used to live on the second floor with his mom but moved into the basement unit sometime last year.” 

Bucky frowned and turned his head to look at his friend. He had only moved in with her nearly three months ago when her roommate had moved out, and they had jumped at the opportunity of finally not having to migrate between their apartments anymore when they wanted to spend time with each other.

“Okay…? What’s the story there?”

Natasha shrugged softly, pursing her lips before she took another slow sip. “I think his mom died, but I’m not sure. I’ve never really talked to him. But I do know his name.”

“And you’re going to make me explicitly ask for it,” Bucky stated, drawing his eyebrows up at her.

She didn’t. “It’s Steve. Steve Rogers. Oh no,” she said without pause as she looked out of the window, brow furrowing as she watched the thick, white flakes that had just started falling again. Outside, the guy - Steve - stopped in his movements and glanced upwards, having noticed the new snow too, and from the looks of it, it was going to be a lot. “Wow, this is like some sad kind of fairytale.”

“Christ,” Bucky cursed and shook his head, feeling a ridiculous amount of sympathy for the man outside. He watched how he pushed the shovel into the snow he had just piled up and leaned on the handle in resignation, and that was it. Bucky jumped up from the couch and ran into the kitchen, shouting over his shoulder, “Did you make enough hot chocolate for me too?”

Natasha’s brows rose slowly as she licked her lips from the last sip she’d taken. “Yeah. It’s on the stove.” 

“Knew there’s a reason why I love you,” he shot back with a smile, already busy pouring the dark, still steaming liquid into a fresh mug.

“I’ll make some more for when you get back,” she said, also getting up from the couch and leisurely walking back into the kitchen area. “Whenever that’ll be,” she added, a small smirk playing around her lips. 

This time Bucky expressed his gratitude through a quick, big kiss to her cheek on his way past her and rushed to put on both shoes and winter jacket, before grabbing the mug again and heading out.

He hadn’t thought much about doing this, had just followed what he  _ wanted  _ to do. And it wasn’t because the guy was cute; it wasn’t even only because of the snow that had started falling again. Or the fact that he had been nice about the whole snowball incident.

Maybe it was a bit of all of that.

The cold air hit him immediately when he got outside, and when Bucky glanced over, he saw, to his relief, that Steve was still there. So he trudged over, snow creaking under his shoes, both hands wrapped around the mug.

Steve must have heard him. He turned around and looked in his direction, squinting slightly against the falling snowflakes before his eyes turned wider with surprise and recognition. “Hi,” he said somewhat tentatively, as if he wasn’t quite sure why Bucky was approaching him. 

Bucky felt himself give a small wry grin in return, coming to a halt a few feet from the other man. “So - I hope you don’t think I’m a stalker or anything like that. But I saw you down here, and I figured - d’you like hot chocolate?”

Steve met him halfway, and the look of surprise only turned more prominent, blue eyes gazing at Bucky’s for a moment before he glanced down at the mug. A small smile formed on his lips. “Oh wow, that's definitely an upgrade from being hit by a snowball,” he said before he took the offered hot chocolate in his hands. 

Bucky snorted softly in surprise and amusement and shoved his hands into his pockets for warmth.

“Could have been in your face, remember?”

Steve nodded briefly, the smile on his lips twitching into a smirk before he lowered his gaze to the cup. “Thanks for that,” he said before he took a first, careful sip.

Bucky watched him, giving him a half shrug with a small smile. “Welcome.”

Before he could formulate the question that was already on his lips - if he liked it - Steve said, “Oh wow, this is good. Did you make it?” 

“No,” Bucky admitted, huffing out a soft laugh, “I just took it. My friend made it, she’s really good at making hot chocolate.”

Steve regarded him for a moment, and Bucky couldn’t figure out what was going on in his mind when his eyes went wider for the fraction of a second. Then, a tiny smile formed on his lips. “Seems like it. So, you two live together now? I haven’t really seen you around before.”

“Oh, yeah, I moved in around three months ago. We’ve been friends forever, and with her flatmate leaving, well -” Bucky shrugged with a wry smile, strangely happy that Steve seemed to really want to talk to him.

Or who knew, maybe he was just being polite because they couldn’t very well stare at each other in silence while he drank the hot chocolate.

“That’s nice,” Steve said before another a sip, probably wanting to finish it quickly before it turned cold. He looked up towards the sky, blinking as a snowflake hit his lashes, and he released a small sigh. “I guess I should finish this anyway. And hope the snow doesn’t fall too high.” There was a small patch left that he hadn’t gotten to yet, and while the new snow slowly started to cover the sidewalk again, he probably had a point. 

"Keeping my fingers crossed for you." The sympathy for Steve's situation was back in an instant, and Bucky was this close to offering his help. But since there really was only a small bit left, he stayed silent.

“Thanks,” Steve chuckled softly, already about to pick the shovel back up, but then he paused, looking back up, and it seemed like he was pondering his next words for a moment. “Can I repay the favour sometime?” he asked, lifting the mug in his hand and nodding towards it. “I’m afraid I don’t have hot chocolate, but coffee or tea if that’s alright?” 

Bucky's heart lurched in his chest in surprise and delight, and he felt a grin spread all over his face.

"Yes!" he said before he even had the chance to think about it and hoped it didn't come too quickly. "Umm. Yes, that sounds pretty good." He smiled wryly.

Steve returned the smile and finally handed the mug back to Bucky to pick up his shovel. “So, I’ve gotta work all day tomorrow and the day after, but… I’m free now.”

"Me too." Bucky chuckled, fingers curling around his thumb in the privacy of his pockets. "If you want to - I'll let you finish this and come knocking on your door in half an hour?"

That gave him enough time to freshen up and get himself into some new clothes too. And probably for his nerves to come into play too, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

“Sounds great,” Steve said, and the smile he gave him then was a little brighter than the ones before, less tentative and maybe, if Bucky wasn’t imagining things, a tiny bit flirty. “It’s the basement unit. Door’s on the right side.”

“I know.” The words were out before Bucky could really think of them, his smile instinctively mirroring Steve’s. “Okay, I’ll - see you in a bit then,” he added quickly, taking a step back.

"See you," Steve replied with a nod and started shovelling.

Bucky turned and hurried back into the house, feeling warm despite the cold air that had nipped on his skin and wormed its way through his jeans.

It was easy: the guy was damn attractive, he seemed nice, so the thought of something like a - well it wasn't a  _ date _ really, it was just _ coffee _ \- made his heart jump in excitement. 

“Geez, Barnes, you seem chipper,” Natasha said as she spotted him, gentle mockery in both her tone and expression. “Did he like  _ my _ hot chocolate then?”

"Didn't you watch us from the window?" Bucky shot back, eyebrows raised at her, but he couldn't keep the grin off his face as he got out of his jacket.

“Of course I did. But I couldn’t hear what you were saying and my lip-reading skills are rusty,” she replied. 

"I still maintain that you only tell people that." Bucky kicked his shoes away and came back into the living room, grinning at his friend. "But he invited me for coffee. Right now. So your hot chocolate -" he said and bent down to Natasha to kiss her cheek "- must have been pretty damn good."

Her brows rose slightly and a smirk formed around her lips. “Can’t have been that good if he feels the need to rinse it down with coffee,” she joked. “But wow, you got yourself a date. See, I said it wasn’t that hard.”

"Yeah well, I need someone who I  _ want _ to go on a date with," Bucky shot back, but just talking about it made his cheeks feel warm. "I need to go change -"

Natasha's chuckle followed him as he hurried into his bedroom, his mind already on what he should wear. The last thing he wanted was to overdo it, and so he settled on his nicest pair of jeans and a soft, dark grey sweater that was still pretty new. In the bathroom he freshened up and changed, and about half an hour after their conversation outside, Bucky rang the bell of the basement unit.

The door opened just a few seconds later, and Steve smiled brightly at Bucky. “Hi, come in!” 

Bucky realised then that Steve probably hadn’t been able to use his time for the same as he; he was still wearing the same jeans - slightly damp at the seams from snow - and his dark blue hoodie looked like the same he had worn underneath his winter jacket. 

But Steve hadn't asked for any more time, so Bucky tried not to feel bad and just smiled back at him when he entered.

"Thanks."

He glanced around as soon as he entered, his first impression being that Steve's little unit was simple but clean and structured, with splashes of color making it warm and lived in. 

“So, I forgot to ask which it should be,” Steve started as he headed into the small kitchen, and Bucky continued to look around.

There were framed drawings above the couch and the adjacent wall, a few art posters here and there and photographs of what must be his friends and family on the wall separating the  kitchen from the main living space. 

“Coffee or tea? I’ve made coffee, but you can have tea if you like.” 

"No, coffee's great," Bucky hurried to reassure, slowly following Steve into the kitchen in case he could help, and just to watch him in case he couldn't. "You have a nice place here... I like the art."

“Oh,” Steve let out a small chuckle, gaze lowered to the two coffee cups he was putting on a tray, small milk can and sugar pot next to them. “Thanks. It’s, um, mostly mine.” 

Christ, that little tray was adorable.

"Mine as in you  _ made _ it?" Bucky wanted to know, his eyebrows raised curiously.

“Yeah,” Steve replied as he picked the tray up and led Bucky to the couch. “I go to art school.”

"That's amazing." Bucky sat down next to him with a bit of distance, a smile on his face as he glanced over at Steve. "I'm going to have to take a closer look at all of them, knowing that."

Another small, slightly bashful laugh came over Steve’s lips. “Be my guest,” he said as he added milk and sugar to his coffee. 

They talked some more about Steve’s studies, and Bucky learned that Steve had two jobs to support himself: a part-time job as a busboy at a pizza joint downtown and doing illustrations for a satirical online magazine. Plus the groundskeeper tasks he did to reduce his rent. Bucky told him about his job too, about how it didn’t pay enough for him to afford an apartment of his own, and from there on they slipped into a conversation about politics and the economy, but soon landed back at their everyday lives.

It was easy, talking to Steve. After about five minutes Bucky had forgotten that he had been a little nervous about this just-coffee-but-maybe-date thing. They laughed together, but he could have deeper conversations with Steve too. Naturally, time seemed to fly.

His second coffee cup was emptied long ago, and Bucky had curled up sideways on the couch, legs angled close to him, head propped up on his hand with his arm on the backrest.

It was a both comfortable and just slightly awkward silence that stretched between two people who were just getting to know each other, but Steve broke it after a short while, a barely noticeable smirk playing around his lips. 

“So, I was wondering,” he started, “were you flirting with me this whole time?” 

Bucky's heart made a little jump, but not of the uncomfortable kind in any way. He felt a grin spread on his face in return, and he never took his eyes off Steve.

"Well. What do  _ you _ think?"

“Well, I’m not so sure,” Steve replied, pretending to sound serious, but Bucky already got the impression that he wasn’t. “I mean it’s been a while for me, so I’ve become kinda crap at picking up the signals…. Was the snowball part of it?”

" _ Sure _ ,” Bucky snorted in amusement, shifting to lie back against the armrest of the couch. "That must have been the most obvious, and my reaction was totally a scam."

Steve maintained that serious gaze for a moment longer, nodding as if he was going to play along, but then he burst out in a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Well, it kinda  _ did _ work. I mean…” He made a small waving motion with his hand. “It did get my attention.”

Bucky let out a soft laugh, briefly drawing one hand over his face. "I really didn't intend any of that, I didn't even know you were there. But I can't say I'm mad about how it turned out, so -" He grinned warmly over at Steve, and - yes.

There was that soft, floating feeling beginning to spread in his chest, the one he remembered from becoming infatuated with someone.

“Well,” Steve started, returning the smile with similar warmth, “I’m glad it turned out as it did, too. At least, this greatly improves my access to really amazing hot chocolate.” 

"Honestly, for that you should be trying to woo Nat, not me," Bucky grinned wryly, warmth spreading slowly in his chest.

“Oh, well if that is the case, then I’m sure you could introduce us?” Steve laughed again, mirth glistening in his blue eyes. 

And that was another great thing, to see right there how he could joke about things like that with him.

"That's going to happen inevitably, isn't it?" he grinned, holding Steve's gaze.

“Well, I would like to,” Steve replied, shrugging softly. “Not  _ only _ for the hot chocolate.” Then his eyes drifted to an old-fashioned wall calendar, and he frowned slightly. “Damn, the last few days before Christmas are going to be busy, though.”

"Aren't they always."

Bucky wasn't surprised, even though he would want to meet up with Steve again rather soon. He chewed on his lower lip again for a moment, following Steve's gaze to the calendar.

"Do you - I mean, would you want to meet up on the Christmas market after work some day, maybe?"

Steve’s face lit up at the question, but he frowned at his calendar once more. “I’d only have time on Christmas Eve, unfortunately, and I guess you’ll be with your family then?”

"No... not this year, actually." Bucky gave him a small smile, shrugging his shoulders a little. "I need to work again on the 26th, so it wouldn't make too much _ sense _ to go visit my family."

He was sad about that, about missing out on Christmas with his parents and sisters, but since his mom and dad had moved away, it had gotten a little harder to visit.

"So... I'm here on the 24th."

“Great,” Steve replied, though his wide smile faltered somewhat and he shrugged apologetically. “I mean, not so much about not being able to see your family, but… Yeah. So you’re spending Christmas with your friend or is she going home?”

A small, soft laugh came over Bucky’s lips.

“Her parents are in Russia, so - And we’ve got another friend, his parents died when he was a kid, so he’s going to be around too.”

His lip caught between his teeth as he watched Steve, considering, even if he already knew what he  _ wanted _ . And he didn’t really think that Nat or Clint were going to mind, because it had sounded like Steve would be alone here.

“You wouldn’t want to come, would you…?”

Steve’s eyes widened, and it seemed to be the most pleasant surprise, judging by the tentative smile that twitched around his slightly parted lips. “I… um… Yeah!” he got out at last with a breathy laugh. “I’d love that.” 

“Really?” A mirroring smile spread on Bucky’s face, and he felt himself flush with happy giddiness at the thought. And when Steve laughed and nodded, Bucky felt sure that this Christmas would become something special.

 

~*~

Last year, Christmas had been one of the bleakest times in Steve’s life. His mom had just died, not even four months previously, and he’d spent the holidays alone, buried in work and whatever distraction he could find that would help him forget the festive occasion all together. Of course, a year further on, it had been a little easier, and Steve had found himself deliberately listening to some of the Christmas tunes on the radio, looking up at brightly-lit trees and fairy lights or enjoying the gingerbread cookies his old neighbour had made for him after helping her with her shopping. And it had been alright, so far, even if he had been going to spend the days alone, just with a few nice movies, music and drawing. 

That had changed rather drastically and quickly, and Steve woke up on Christmas morning with a tingle of excitement in his stomach that he wouldn’t have expected, had it not been for the newly formed acquaintance of one Bucky Barnes. 

They had spent all afternoon together on Christmas Eve, and while the occasion had been a rather casual one, it had felt like a date, leaving Steve with a warm, fuzzy feeling in his belly that hadn’t been from punch and eggnog alone. He had said goodbye and goodnight to Bucky in front of his house and headed to church alone. That had been something for his mom, and for her - his memory of her - alone. Back home, he had pulled out a box with photographs and keepsakes that he hadn’t touched since her death, and it had filled him with a bittersweet mix of loss and gratitude for having had her in his life. 

He went to visit her grave after a small breakfast and spent the rest of the morning working on some of his drawings until it was finally twelve-thirty and he could go over to Bucky and Natasha’s. 

An involuntary smile on his lips - and struggling not to let it become a too excited grin - he rang the doorbell and waited. 

It only took a few seconds until the door was opened to reveal Bucky behind it, dressed in a soft looking, knitted sweater and dark jeans, a happy expression on his face.

“Hi! Come in, it’s great to have you.”

“It’s great you invited me,” Steve replied, feeling just a tiny bit awkward at his rather formal reply. He noticed there was a not so unpleasant knot of nervousness in his stomach.

Bucky chuckled and hovered in the doorway while Steve slipped out of his shoes. It didn’t seem like  _ he  _ minded the reply.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the other two.”

“Okay,” Steve just replied and followed Bucky into the living room. The apartment was a lot more spacious than his tiny unit, the big windows providing more natural light, and it instantly reminded him of the apartment he’d shared with his mom. The furniture was more modern - by the looks of it, a lot IKEA and a few other budget-friendly items - and the decorations were modern with many quirky little personal items.

Natasha, standing next to a dark blond guy in the open kitchen area, was the first to turn around to greet him, lifting a hand for a small wave hello. “Hi,” she said, seeming a little busy with whatever food she and the guy - Clint, as Bucky had told him - were preparing. “Just get comfy, and we’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Do you want a tour?” Bucky asked, smiling at Steve as he sat the bag with gifts down next to the couch. “It’ll be a short one, but a tour nevertheless.”

“Are you allowed to do that? Is he allowed to bring people into your bedroom?” Clint asked Natasha, a grin on his lips, pushing a tray into the oven with something Steve didn’t quite recognise and didn’t have enough time to get a good look at either.

What he could see, however, was the look under raised eyebrows Natasha was giving Clint before she turned towards Steve and Bucky. “Go ahead, I don’t mind.” 

“Okay,” Steve replied with a small chuckle and followed Bucky along as he lead him through the rooms. Apart from the open kitchen and living room there was, predictably, a bathroom that was small but not cramped, an office with two desks standing face to face and many things littered on them - letters most of all, papers with notes, a few sweets. And then the two bedrooms of course - Natasha’s with white furniture and lots of splashes of color, Bucky’s modern and simple with more muted colors, both tidy but lived in. 

“And that’s it - told you it’d be short.”

“Well, short but still really nice,” Steve said, looking around a bit more curiously, finding the bookshelf in Bucky’s room, and it instantly drew him in. After all, what kinds of books a person read said a lot about them, and Steve found himself smiling as he recognised a few familiar spines: Lord of the Rings, Assimov and Terry Pratchett, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, among others. 

“Wow, were you deliberately keeping from me what a massive geek you are?” Steve said, finally forcing his nervousness down and finding his cheekiness. It also made him even more impatient about what Bucky would say about his Christmas gift. 

“No! What?”

Bucky looked like he had replied entirely on instinct, his cheeks flushing subtly as he raised a hand and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Really? Do these make me a geek?”

Steve shrugged softly, trying to hide his own smirk. “Okay, they’re pretty mainstream. What  _ does _ make you not only a geek but also a nerd are these,” he said, pointing at a row of non-fiction books ranging from  _ Stephen Hawking - A Life in Science _ , over several computer books to… “ _ Robot Building for Dummies _ ? Really?”

“That was a present,” Bucky defended himself with an amused huff, and then crossed his arms over his chest while a smirk tugged on the corners of his mouth. “Also, fuck off, nerdy is the new sexy. And I  _ am  _ an IT guy.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” Steve said, gaze lingering on Bucky’s lips for maybe a second too long. “Did you try it, though? Building a robot I mean?” 

“No.” Now Bucky was smiling again, coming a little closer to the bookcase to have a look at the spine of the book. “I’m not an engineer. I just think the stuff is cool.”

“It is,” Steve agreed, and he would have liked to talk about it some more, the question whether Bucky also watched ‘Humans’ on the tip of his tongue, when he heard Clint curse about something from the kitchen. “Um… should we go help or something?” 

“Yeah. Let’s go back,” Bucky replied after a brief moment. He glanced over at Steve and smiled again before turning and leading the way. “What have you ruined now?” he called over towards the kitchen as soon as they were out of the room, closing the door behind Steve.

“Only the… bubble… whatever they’re called,” Clint replied and Natasha rolled her eyes, an amused expression on her face. 

“Bobal’ki, and they’re not ruined. Fortunately for you.” 

As they stepped closer, Steve could see a heap of what looked like sauerkraut all over a plate and the kitchen counter. Natasha was carefully scooping it back around several golfball-sized, golden brown things Steve had never seen before. Then, she lightly pushed Clint out of the way to open the oven, revealing a delicious looking bird. 

“God, that smells good -” Bucky took in a deep breath next to him, obviously being drawn in by the slowly roasting meat in the oven. After just a step he turned back to Steve, a curious look on his face. “Do you have any personal Christmas traditions?”

“Um, nothing specific,” Steve said, which was a bit of a white lie. There were several, but they were all linked to how he and his mom had celebrated Christmas together, and he didn’t really feel like sharing them. “Should we set the table?”

For a moment Bucky looked at him as if he knew that he had been quite evasive on the question, but quickly enough that Steve could have just imagined it too, he nodded and turned towards a cupboard in the kitchen.

“Sure! Under the condition that you also tell me what you want to drink.”

Steve let out a small laugh and nodded. That, at least, was something he could easily do. 

It didn’t take long after that until dinner was finally ready. The bird that now sat in the middle of the table, turned out to be a duck, and it was definitely one of the most delicious ones Steve had ever tasted. There were several side-dishes, too, next to the Russian speciality Natasha had prepared also some American classics, sweet potatoes, several vegetables and cranberry sauce. 

The conversations at the table were pleasant, easy-going and way more familiar than Steve would have expected with people he hardly knew or didn’t know at all. Bucky was a bit of an exception there. Despite the short time, Steve already felt as if they’d been knowing each other for ages - when they found new topics on which they shared the same opinion, or when they both burst out laughing at the exact same moment when Clint said something funny. It was really so, so easy to enjoy himself, to feel relaxed and even have a sense of belonging and - on a more basic level - home on a day like this. 

And he did notice that Bucky sometimes looked over at him with a smile when Steve wasn’t necessarily looking back, and that his gaze lingered, definitely longer than was appropriate for someone who wasn’t - well -  _ interested _ . It sent tingles to the pit of his belly, through his chest, like proverbial butterflies that made him awfully conscious of how much he wanted to smile, grin even. But then again, that probably wasn’t a bad thing at all, he thought, when he returned one of the glances and found a similar smile on Bucky’s face. 

After dinner they just sat together, talked and drank for quite a while longer, a bottle of red and white - Natasha stuck to the red wine, Steve noticed, and Bucky drank a glass of white before he joined Clint who’d had beers so far.

“So… is it time for the presents yet?” Bucky eventually asked with a little smile, head tipping towards the Christmas tree.

“It was time this morning, but someone insisted to wait,” Clint said, in what Steve guessed was mock-grumpiness, which was confirmed by Natasha’s amused eyeroll and Bucky’s unapologetic shrug.

“Well, as the guest I should probably give you your gifts first?” Steve offered and got up from his seat to get the bag he had brought, three wrapped presents in it.

“Come on, let’s do this properly and move to the couch?” Bucky suggested before Steve started pulling the presents out, giving him a smile. “Since the rest are over there anyway.”

“Fine by me,” Clint replied, and the four of them moved to the couch and armchair, that Natasha took, giving Steve a small, barely visible wink just as he sat down between Clint and Bucky. 

Steve had to bite his lip around a grin. 

“Okay.” Steve cleared his throat, reaching into the bag. “This one’s for you. Thank you so much for the invitation and the amazing dinner,” he said, handing the first gift to Natasha who unpacked it immediately, making a delighted face at the selection of individually wrapped, fine chocolates made of cocoa beans from various countries of origin.

“Oh, this looks amazing,” she smiled as she briefly looked at the writing on the bottom of each of them. “I’m going to have a great time with this, I know it already. Screams for a relaxing hot bath.” Natasha smiled back at him. “And it’s a pleasure to have you here. Thank you, Steve.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, glad that he had guessed right and her love for chocolate-y things didn’t end at hot cocoa. 

Next was Clint, and he, too, seemed genuinely pleased about getting  _ The Greatest Joke Book Ever _ \- which was literally the title of it. Finding something for a complete stranger had been harder, but then again who didn’t enjoy good jokes? 

Last - and now Steve’s excitement formed deep in his stomach again, sending goosebumps down his back - came Bucky’s present. It was the largest of the three, a flat and slightly heavier item that made Bucky knit his brow as he unpacked it, and Steve unintentionally held his breath, hoping he had made the right choice. 

He got to watch the look of surprise, and then one of stunned amazement that crossed Bucky’s face when the wrappings finally revealed the colored pencil drawing Steve had made for him, the Millennium Falcon flying before the backdrop of a red and yellow colored galaxy.

“Christ -” Bucky breathed out, looking completely slack-jawed for a moment, before his gaze flew up to Steve again. “You - you  _ made  _ this?”

So that definitely was a good reaction. More than good, and Steve had to swallow down the knot of giddy excitement in his throat and keep his voice steady. “Yeah. I… after we had coffee and you told me you liked Star Wars. I thought maybe you’d like something like that. You do then?”

“Of course!” Bucky still looked disbelieving, and he glanced back down to take in the drawing, leaning the lower edge on his thighs so he could look at it from a better angle. “This is  _ incredible _ !”

Steve let out a small laugh, touched and happy that he had found the right gift. “Thanks,” he said then. “I  _ did _ have some practice, so…”

“ _ Some _ ,” Bucky huffed out a laugh and was joined by Natasha. 

Clint reached out his hand. “Come on, don’t hog it, I want to see it too!”

Steve laughed, feeling flattered as the other two marvelled at his picture, too. And well, okay, he knew he really wasn’t bad at drawing. 

The three friends exchanged their presents next because Steve insisted on it - after all, Clint had been waiting since  _ this morning _ . Natasha got tickets to the ballet from both of them. Clint got a set of arrows - which was how Steve learned that he did archery for sport - and a computer game, and Bucky got some perfume from Natasha, while Clint gave him  _ The Magnificent Seven _ that had come out on BluRay. 

Then, it was Steve’s turn to receive his gifts, and he felt excited, unwrapping Natasha and Clint’s first which was a lovely, thick but soft medium-blue scarf and matching gloves. “For the next time you need to be out there clearing the sidewalks,” she told him with a little wink.

The last one to change hands was Bucky’s gift for Steve, and he handed it to him with a smile and a both slightly nervous and hopeful look. It was flat and hard, and from the way the edges felt, it seemed to be a large book.

Steve unpacked it, having to keep himself from tearing the paper off too quickly. What he felt first before he saw it, was a coarse but at the same time silky texture, and when the book was finally freed, he saw the pattern on the natural fibre canvas - brush strokes in greens and blues on a muted background. Opening it and seeing the empty pages, he realised it was a sketchbook, made of the finest kind of paper, slightly structured, thick and just perfect for both pencil and paint. 

“Wow, that’s… that’s really great,” he said, still running his fingers over a page, already imagining what he could draw on it. The size was perfect too, just slightly smaller than a standard letter sheet, perfect for carrying it around and draw whenever inspiration struck him. “Really, Bucky. This paper is amazing. Thank you so, so much!”

“Really?” Steve could watch Bucky’s face light up, as if he hadn’t been entirely sure about his present right until this moment. “I figured - you probably have dozens of those already, but the lady helping me out at the store said that it’s really good, so -”

“No, no, I don’t. I usually just have regular drawing pads or sketch blocks. I had a book like this once, but it wasn’t nearly as fancy.” Steve wouldn’t really buy something like this for himself, knowing it couldn’t have been cheap, but getting it as a present was amazing. “I’d say I’d draw you an R2D2 in it, but… sorry, this book is just too good to tear pages out of it.”

“Oh no no, don’t tear anything out!” Bucky let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “No, you keep it for yourself and draw whatever you want in it. I’m really, really glad that you like it,” he added and gave Steve a wide, warm smile.

“Alright, now that this part is over - who’s up for a movie?” Clint asked as he got up from the couch, stretching his back leisurely with his arms over his head. “Or go for a walk?”

Natasha leaned back, her hands on her stomach. “I still can’t move,” she said, though Steve had troubles believing that. 

“A movie’s fine by me, if you guys want to.” 

“We can watch this,” Bucky suggested immediately, plucking his new DVD off the coffee table and holding it out for everyone to see, his eyebrows drawn up. “Break it in right away?”

“That’s what I was getting at,” Clint said, and Natasha agreed as well. So Bucky put the movie in and they all settled on the couch or armchair, with the difference from their previous sitting arrangement that when Clint sat down again, it was in the armchair. Natasha settled comfortably in his lap, slightly sideways, Clint’s hand resting on her thigh to steady her.

This gave Steve and Bucky much more space on the couch, and Steve realized he had to decide before Bucky got back from the TV rack if he wanted to move to the corner opposite Bucky’s or stay where he was.

In the end, he moved just an inch or two, more in pretense than for real, and he gave Bucky a small smile before turning his gaze towards the flatscreen as Bucky started the movie. 

It wasn’t the best film any of them had seen - they all agreed on that - but it was entertaining enough, not too difficult to follow and allowing for some chatting in between or getting snacks and some warmed up leftovers without having to pause it. Steve was enjoying himself immensely with the good company, the food and the overall feeling of being welcomed into their little group like an old friend. 

But what he enjoyed most of all was how those small looks and smiles continued between him and Bucky, and the tingles of excitement he felt, anticipation at this point, because he would be damned if it all ended with just looks and smiles. He tried not to glance over the few times Natasha and Clint exchanged small kisses - the kinds that couples who were very familiar with each other did, and that answered a question he hadn’t considered polite enough to ask. It filled him with the tiniest bit of envy and made him wonder if Bucky might be thinking something along the same lines. 

It wasn’t even that late - after the movie had ended and they’d continued to chat for a while - when Clint announced that he was dead tired and Bucky teased him, calling him an old man, but it didn’t sound like he actually minded the consequence. 

Steve was not tired yet, far from it, and those pleasant tingles of anticipation multiplied in his stomach as soon as the couple were done in the bathroom, and the door to Natasha’s bedroom was closed. 

“Thank you,” Steve said after a short while of silence between them, giving Bucky a warm smile. “For inviting me. I really had an amazing time. Am still having it,” he added, wanting to make clear that he had no intention to leave yet.

“Good to hear,” Bucky returned with a smile of his own, looking incredibly comfortable and at home in the corner of the couch, one leg folded under him, the other angled in front of him. “We should get something more to drink… What do you think?”

Steve was torn, wanting to stay there in the comfort and opportunity the closeness offered, but his glass was empty, and getting another drink meant that Bucky intended for him to stay a while longer. He nodded. “Sure. What did you have in mind?”

Bucky hummed, and it looked like he was pondering the question, his gaze trailing to their empty glasses.

"Well, we've still got beer or wine - but hey, if you want another hot chocolate, we've still got some of that too," he finished with a grin, raising his eyebrows at Steve.

“Yeah?” Steve asked, trying to hide the smile that wanted to spread on his lips as a bubbly feeling spread in his chest. “Can you do it or do you have to wake up Natasha for that?” 

"Oh, is this how we're playing it?" Bucky huffed out an amused sound and unfolded his legs to get off the couch. "That's the opposite of flattery, just so you know -"

“Well,” Steve started with a shrug as he got up, too. “They say flattery will get you nowhere.”

"Flattery is what makes flirting work," was the reply Steve got, along with a long look over Bucky's shoulder as he crossed over to the kitchen.

“Told you I was out of practice,” Steve said, half joking, half not. He didn’t exactly feel like he  _ needed  _ to make an effort to be particularly flirty with Bucky, and that definitely was a good thing. 

He just so caught the smile that spread on Bucky's lips before his view was obscured by him looking ahead again, opening the cupboard that held the pots.

"I guess there are worse things. And you're doing fine. Mostly."

“Good to know,” Steve replied as casually as he could. He leaned against the counter, arms folded in front of his chest as he watched Bucky, and when their eyes met again, he was making sure his gaze that drifted from Bucky’s eyes down to his lips made up for things he hadn’t said. 

And Bucky had definitely caught the look, because even as he looked away again, the corners of his mouth twitched subtly while he poured milk into one of the small pots.

"What did you think? That I invited you here for Christmas only because you're a good addition to the team?"

Steve let out a small laugh, maybe a tiny bit bashful, but he wasn’t going to deny or hide it. “I was hoping that wasn’t it,” he admitted as he watched Bucky heat the pot on the stove, before he turned to take two mugs out of the cupboard and get the cocoa powder out of another.

"In that case, you're in luck."

“Well, good,” Steve replied, having to clear his throat to hide the way his voice nearly stumbled over his lips when his heart suddenly beat a little faster in his chest. It wasn’t like that came as a surprise, not at all, but still, hearing Bucky spell it out again made that giddy, elated feeling spread all through him. 

When Bucky had poured the cocoa powder into the pot with the warming milk, he finally turned around to face Steve. He leaned his hip against the counter and propped his hands on its edge, facing Steve with his head held high and a subtle smile on his face.

"So - how long exactly were you going to wait?"

“Wait for what?” Steve asked, genuinely clueless, and Bucky rolled his eyes with a laugh.

"Seriously?"

It took another few seconds before Steve finally got it. He’d like to blame the lateness of the evening or the enticing scent of the hot chocolate that started to raise from the pot, but just then he’d been a bit stupid. He let out a small laugh, shaking his head at himself before he brought his gaze back up, and this time it was more automatically than intentionally when it drifted right to Bucky’s lips again. And damn, they looked so unbelievably kissable. 

The scent of the cocoa became more noticeable now and Steve looked its way, a small involuntary sigh leaving his lips that turned into another breathy chuckle. “Well, at least until the hot chocolate is done. Or else the milk will spill.”

Bucky stared at him for a moment, and then let out a soft laugh, shaking his head.

"You're unbelievable. Sure, okay, let's have hot chocolate first."

He turned off the stove and poured the contents of the pot into the two mugs - and Steve could see that the the back of his neck was flushed in a subtle shade of red.

And yeah, maybe that had been stupid or unnecessary at least, and Steve was already regretting it a bit, unable to think about anything else than kissing Bucky. Then again, something rushed - and causing a mess in the kitchen - would not have been what this should be like, what he'd want a first kiss to be. He wanted to draw it out and not stop, and he hoped Bucky wanted the same, had actually been waiting for it the entire evening. 

"Thanks," he said as he accepted his mug, blowing on the surface lightly before he took a careful sip, pleased to find out it was just right.

Bucky mirrored him, letting the liquid warm his hands as did Steve. And for a moment they just stood there, looking at each other over the mugs, the air crackling with comfortable anticipation between them.

Steve thought it would be awkward, just that it wasn't. He could still remember his last first kiss which had been - both of them slightly drunk and not exactly knowing where it should lead. Or his  _ first _ first kiss that had been sweet and breathtaking but so, so awkward for the lack of experience he had had. This first kiss was entirely different. It happened slowly, deliberately. After a lingering gaze, they both leaned in at the same time. Bit by bit, eyes open until Bucky’s lips tenderly touched Steve’s, the sweet taste of chocolate still on them. 

There was no awkwardness even after having danced around it for a while, no moment of 'what to do next?' or 'does he like what I'm doing?' or 'do _ I _ like what we're doing?'. It was gentle, patient, a slow exploration and discovery that here, with the steady contact of their lips, too, they matched. If not perfectly then at least really, really well.

Eventually Steve could feel Bucky smiling into the kiss, soft and calm, and after another moment he drew back enough so that he could glance at Steve. He seemed content -  _ happy  _ \- as he looked into Steve’s eyes, his own ones dark and warm.

“So…” he finally spoke up again, studying Steve. “Good Christmas?”

“The best,” Steve replied without hesitation, feeling a smile on his lips that didn’t want to go away. He slowly brought a hand around Bucky’s waist, palm resting against the small of his back before he leaned in for another soft kiss. 

Without any hesitation, Bucky took a step closer, following the light prompt of the hand on his back, bringing their bodies together easily. They kissed again like this, with Bucky leaning against Steve’s chest and his mug still in his hand, slowly but without nervousness, the first step of an exploration that would hopefully have many, many more.

When they slowly drew apart again, neither of them seemed to want to let go for long. As Steve slung his arms more tightly around Bucky, the embrace returned with equal affection, he couldn’t help thinking of that snowball not even a week ago. Who knew what his Christmas would have been like if it hadn’t been for that lucky misfortune. Probably not even close to this amazing, with butterflies in his stomach and warmth in his chest. 

“Merry Christmas, Bucky,” he said softly, and he could feel Bucky smiling where his cheek was resting against Steve’s neck.

“To you too, Steve.”

The hot chocolate stood on the counter, forgotten, as their lips touched for another kiss.


End file.
